tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61440911075490588422024-03-05T15:01:27.049-08:00Joy-chasingSheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-15081659356613344802011-04-27T08:28:00.003-07:002011-04-27T08:28:56.724-07:00Nina<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today it rained and Nina didn't want to be home<br />
She said she is old enough to face the dawn<br />
You said she is a mood<br />
I said lets get wet in dreamfall.</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-32292290828279012602011-04-27T08:28:00.001-07:002011-04-27T08:28:09.626-07:00Spring cleaning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I cannot write about writing letters<br />
I can only promise the letters would etch troubled seasons<br />
Spring had its uprising and them their partings <br />
We simply count till it turns zero.</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-3656526610819676232011-04-27T08:27:00.000-07:002011-04-27T08:27:10.181-07:00Changes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I never quite liked changes, I resisted questions<br />
It could be Juice Newton and just Belafonte <br />
It could be the tremulous strings of my guitar and your trembling voice<br />
It had to be us in any form, classical or otherwise.<br />
</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-34908002139030577612011-04-27T08:26:00.001-07:002011-04-27T08:26:15.072-07:00Erie Canal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I have been blinded by clouds<br />
I have been meaning to run across countries<br />
I have taken a shouldered walk along erie canal<br />
And I wished I would see you slowly diffuse in the woods.</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-2870012887988614382011-04-27T08:25:00.001-07:002011-04-28T11:53:35.980-07:00Drumlins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I'm excited about waking onto tomorrows<br />
Through columbines and whistled leaves<br />
Children do not run here, chatters do.<br />
I hear them chirp <br />
Tucking you into my morning pillows<br />
Nodding to all your preens.</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-62338172628187990862011-04-27T08:24:00.000-07:002011-04-27T08:24:47.797-07:00Cross-links<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It is as if you are in the next room<br />
It is as if you are not in your nightwear<br />
But draped in blue sweater and high heels<br />
It is as if you chuckle when we drop void<br />
It is when you are just by the window<br />
And I fail to tap the glass<br />
It is as if I'm running to stand still by your house<br />
And your house lies several raindrops away.<br />
It is when I write, I communicate most<br />
Than I ever could in senses and structures.</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-67246135437102651312011-04-27T08:23:00.000-07:002011-04-27T08:23:07.628-07:00Corridors<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Corridors find furtive faces<br />
Evading footsteps as I turn around<br />
Then be the silent victim<br />
This time a needy one.<br />
</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-32503674856547170582011-04-21T17:54:00.000-07:002011-04-21T17:54:11.429-07:00The other<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I hear songs in yardless rhymes<br />
<br />
<br />
rain-drenched fingers<br />
<br />
In the guise of <br />
<br />
Echoing my fingertips<br />
<br />
<br />
I return home to incessant chirpings<br />
<br />
Trees, naked in broken branches<br />
<br />
Flowers, shying in damp cheeks<br />
<br />
Tucked beneath pillows dry.<br />
<br />
Gods play with songs<br />
<br />
Curvilinear paths they draw <br />
<br />
Of sins and virtues<br />
<br />
Moon lines sunlit corners<br />
<br />
Keeping you alone in a corner.<br />
<br />
<br />
All evening, all along sundown<br />
<br />
Staying elsewhere with the other girl.</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-73856961941626160362011-04-21T17:38:00.000-07:002011-04-21T17:38:26.011-07:00Recurrence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">She spoke of Mackennitt in green rusty eyes<br />
<br />
<br />
She uttered of coral reefs and I heard mumbling<br />
<br />
Evening was lain in incessant rain drops<br />
<br />
And my sundown bathed in moondance<br />
<br />
She spoke, although she did not<br />
<br />
Dragged by breathless child-like manners<br />
<br />
Inane and curiously haptic, shady groves<br />
<br />
withered. Alas, I fell in love again.<br />
<br />
She promised choirs, she promised apologies<br />
<br />
I only asked gently to cross gently wet roads<br />
<br />
We promised dualities and east european footsies<br />
<br />
Crickets rumbled and rambled, spring had begun!<br />
<br />
We parted for a smoke she did not wish.<br />
<br />
In dismay I eyed abyss, "When again?"</div>Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-11548424563314888202010-04-24T20:27:00.000-07:002010-04-24T20:32:39.534-07:00The last fewWe are surely learning to roll with repetitions<br />
<br />
Words now urinate to their self coital death<br />
<br />
Tolerating little play, unsure of every uttering <br />
<br />
Your silent monosyllables, stark elitism<br />
<br />
They die too, coiling, curling up their own hymen<br />
<br />
There is no furore of life, only the sly of the indefinite<br />
<br />
Silence rests, in its foetal sex-wig.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-47061921745354966412010-04-22T20:44:00.000-07:002010-04-22T20:47:48.472-07:00Prologue to AlienationYet starvation definite <br />
<br />
Sighs ceaseless around my mind <br />
<br />
I'm a poet of the destitute <br />
<br />
I see nightmares unbridled, <br />
<br />
Death in crystal forms. <br />
<br />
My spring is spent in hunger rows, anticipating <br />
<br />
Siren of my sleepless nights blows circumspect <br />
<br />
I find adventure in the cruelty of the ineffectual <br />
<br />
Wherein my wonder springs armed, <br />
<br />
Looping cruel disciplines.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-55380651438925755082010-04-05T16:23:00.001-07:002010-04-05T16:25:11.381-07:00PebblesMy golden pebbles, I will rip open<br />
Over these downtrodden arms<br />
These locomotive shadows wherein <br />
I shall keep in silver <br />
Our still captive days.<br />
In pretense the captive birds be flown<br />
The gust in their wingy winds <br />
Submissive to the breakfast of freedom<br />
Inspite of the softer pillows of absence .<br />
For us to steal stealth <br />
In their frolicing leaves<br />
Your milk-lining, <br />
And more tons of it, with ease which <br />
Shall erode the silent wailing, <br />
Tons of corrosions, <br />
And just like before, <br />
Your dawn will wind up<br />
Around my dawn, for it to admit longer<br />
And long enough.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-23565895598790114522009-11-24T21:54:00.001-08:002009-11-25T10:28:20.964-08:00PoetryPoetry writes you well<br />
<br />
Seasonally gifting shoelaces to tie,<br />
<br />
Friendly, <br />
<br />
The falsity of this twisted head.<br />
<br />
<br />
In little pages poetry arrives<br />
<br />
In lesser folds poetry folds<br />
<br />
Into your youful towels.<br />
<br />
<br />
Poetry gets scooped up<br />
<br />
The smallest of your combs<br />
<br />
Wipes off well in the pages <br />
<br />
Where poetry rests.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
How easy then, for poets<br />
<br />
To become friends.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-67390024594673734292009-11-15T10:04:00.000-08:002009-11-15T10:04:14.071-08:00To A CatNow and then , <br />
between the finest unfolding of a day, <br />
I meet the cat ;<br />
<br />
<br />
In the shadow of the trees, <br />
Flare of the sun, <br />
Or the secretive parting of brown leaves.<br />
<br />
Somewhere after succeeding a few fish bones<br />
Then encumbered in the carcass of white soil<br />
I find it absorbed in his self , <br />
With his heart ruminating <br />
Like a bee.<br />
<br />
Yet ,continually he scrapes his claws against the gulmohar tree<br />
Pursuing the sun all day.<br />
<br />
Now I see him,<br />
Then it is lost somewhere.<br />
<br />
In the softening evening sun, crimsoned he plays<br />
Caressing his white paws<br />
Fisting the night in tiny blobs<br />
Then diffusing them all over this infinity.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-54581814644991772162009-11-05T08:56:00.001-08:002009-11-05T08:56:29.927-08:00Liquid TimesI<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
my significance was in clouds<br />
<br />
In living relics of human footsteps<br />
<br />
My significance<br />
<br />
Embodied wholly in newly harvested crops<br />
<br />
In the peeping endless meadows by the throughway sides, and<br />
<br />
In playgrounds.<br />
<br />
My significance was in<br />
<br />
today.<br />
<br />
My significance was only<br />
<br />
In blood bathed hecatombs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
II<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Across the multitudinous , <br />
<br />
the sun comes out<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Littering on walls<br />
<br />
Of schools shut.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Littering on <br />
<br />
earth scraping ploughs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Littering on the runaway kid's<br />
<br />
Blood draped school uniform.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
III<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Strange evening settles down.<br />
<br />
Softening sun spreads over meadows<br />
<br />
Alights in the backyard,<br />
<br />
Piercing the parted leaves.<br />
<br />
Only a lone crow sits<br />
<br />
By the mourning house.<br />
<br />
Scared to caw. <br />
<br />
Lest ,the wailing mother wakes up <br />
<br />
Who now sleeps, <br />
<br />
fatigued in mourning <br />
<br />
Over the son she just lost.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-86498150556067769742009-10-28T21:48:00.000-07:002009-10-28T21:48:26.024-07:00The boytoyOver me stranger, a sky of fillets in muse,<br />
Dearest rain amuses its arrival<br />
Mad girl comes unkempt, hers not bathed<br />
Of what fearful muse, do you protrude your colorful fangs?<br />
<br />
Over me dearest stranger, dressings in orange<br />
Orange aunts that bought orange houses, their terraces<br />
A sight for urchins, Ones who lost their nights over few baths and skirts<br />
Physic unbidden, a cello which stares back unstirred.<br />
<br />
Fisting their ages in pearled shakes , crisscrossed palms<br />
Difficult that defects, never bowing their diseased heads<br />
When all with eyes not parted, you come gently in colloquial<br />
Diffusing all the iron and the leaden manhood<br />
As the lone love, the begotten, the terminal caress permeating<br />
Crisscrossed palms, firm fists, the celebration<br />
Of a boyhood forgotten.<br />
--Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-65010900828467571902009-10-14T09:45:00.001-07:002009-10-14T09:45:16.539-07:00Love In KennelThere she is, on that terrace again <br />
<br />
<br />
the dog-dream of her bones rests here, alone and leaning<br />
<br />
On this old tin porch chair<br />
<br />
She never ever looks at the dog<br />
<br />
But, always turns her face away<br />
<br />
when glanced at.<br />
<br />
I wonder how she ever finds out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Dog-dreams cross her everyday<br />
<br />
Beneath tree shadows, amid the blaze of sun, on the purple leaves<br />
<br />
Then her last bone of meat is done,<br />
<br />
Then the terminal snow smears on the white carcass<br />
<br />
Then she absolves, then she absorbs<br />
<br />
Her one little heart, humming like a medieval bee.<br />
<br />
Her polished nails scratching the redwood<br />
<br />
Where ivy breathes her panting, while she races on <br />
<br />
behind the big fat asthmatic sun.<br />
<br />
beside her<br />
<br />
morning of besides<br />
<br />
Once seen,<br />
<br />
Then sightless for many.<br />
<br />
Sun like a mustard, on this infant autumn evening<br />
<br />
Crystallized white by her white paws<br />
<br />
Acquitting the autumn of its foetus<br />
<br />
Carelessly so , teasing in grasslands <br />
<br />
Teasing sticky, <br />
<br />
Teasing ugly, <br />
<br />
Teasing vibrant<br />
<br />
Teasing charades with her high heeled bright black shoes.<br />
<br />
Then, fisting the night in blobs<br />
<br />
Scattering all over the world <br />
<br />
that only sleeps <br />
<br />
in that falsity of her uterus.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-858130555396204942009-10-10T12:16:00.000-07:002009-10-10T12:18:13.196-07:00MossI <br />
<br />
you were numb on love<br />
<br />
<br />
deadened , <br />
<br />
torpid sleep in my eyes<br />
<br />
as the nights anesthetized my retina<br />
<br />
Continually bickering, <br />
<br />
howling,<br />
<br />
at<br />
<br />
this last rain -<br />
<br />
swarming in tears.<br />
<br />
remotely doors thud<br />
<br />
all my thoughts <br />
<br />
in falsity of love<br />
<br />
knows you dearly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
II <br />
<br />
<br />
Say well-healed , say opulent <br />
<br />
<br />
if you other.<br />
<br />
what are we scared of?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Shell out women on terraces<br />
<br />
Shell out patchwork of shower<br />
<br />
By the fountain-play, where<br />
<br />
soaps slip out of clutch<br />
<br />
marrying the rampant ale.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
why must we take pains <br />
<br />
to cross the bridge <br />
<br />
over rambling water.<br />
<br />
Cohere to my ranter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Slain furtively, and witness<br />
<br />
the sly darkness<br />
<br />
caressing the murky dying sun<br />
<br />
nobody anywhere to frown<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
you were in dusk plentiful<br />
<br />
glued to unperturbed flow<br />
<br />
times we dont deny of.<br />
<br />
lets walk back<br />
<br />
to homely birds -<br />
<br />
tell me some.<br />
<br />
my applause tucked<br />
<br />
along million pages fleeting.<br />
<br />
wind comes splintering<br />
<br />
Whirling them beyond <br />
<br />
the walls of fountain <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
beside me<br />
<br />
morning of besides <br />
<br />
somebody's ghungroos<br />
<br />
that somebody left.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-86966209982800499572009-10-06T21:30:00.000-07:002009-10-06T21:30:51.103-07:00playmateTo you that i write <br />
your senses i did not<br />
glassy , leered into post-suicidal rain<br />
droplets merely bounce off <br />
my days<br />
<br />
there need not be wonted discourse<br />
to you that i do not ask<br />
old and ancient feminine pride<br />
you of moth-eaten libraries<br />
i merely do not rest there<br />
<br />
much as silent provoked<br />
you of misty solicitude<br />
this eerie silence i refuse<br />
that it will not let me be<br />
the tiger that never found me<br />
<br />
what of flesh in men foretold<br />
in women wriggling against party walls<br />
what of scraping trash off my cities<br />
duino elegies, psychedelia, teenage wasteland<br />
what of him - your vaginal repose<br />
self pity loved many<br />
this time, me.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-58448266388261998042009-10-05T21:17:00.000-07:002009-10-06T11:54:38.747-07:00Autumn aleThese poetic repertoires<br />
In drowning<br />
Our ears felt,<br />
Tiny white sea-lice<br />
Sharing our ears<br />
Eavesdrops -<br />
Dipped in autumn ale<br />
Weightless we stay.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-89411252468979916802009-10-02T22:25:00.001-07:002009-11-11T18:52:17.908-08:00Somewhere I have lived..Somewhere I have lived<br />
A life of wanderings, before<br />
I knew the wind,<br />
the tumultuous surge of knowing.<br />
<br />
Somewhere I have thought<br />
neither you, nor I<br />
Rattling in between; <br />
serving as dispersion. <br />
<br />
Of mad poets: <br />
writing,<br />
listening madly,<br />
conquering none. <br />
<br />
somewhere I have only whispered<br />
nothings.<br />
Somewhere we began to grow,<br />
our brains neutralized<br />
to texts, texts permitted not<br />
to question for sometime<br />
<br />
We rarely tied down.<br />
As the teardrops on a muslin <br />
Carefully hidden somewhere<br />
finest, where we practiced losing.<br />
<br />
We ate cities for joys consuming,<br />
for I probed For you.<br />
You were the ribs, ribs of ink dripping <br />
Jocundly patterned on sheets of elsewheres <br />
<br />
Because somewhere<br />
we wanted it this way.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-90532418259630391202009-09-15T20:48:00.001-07:002009-09-15T20:48:42.512-07:00DuskShe is made in clouds, her everything wondrous in clouds marveled <br />
<br />
Cloudless paltry Arjun lights a dusk in the meadows.<br />
<br />
Spreading what is permeable , transcending boundaries.<br />
<br />
My mouth jitters , with blues , with crimson evasive.<br />
<br />
Meek fingertips play its first with grasses<br />
Dew stained grassroots strokes virginal fingers.<br />
<br />
Everything else a burning carpet.<br />
<br />
She was taken in cloudy carpets<br />
In different colors, by different men.<br />
<br />
Chronicle of colors vanquished <br />
In consciousness, in her oblivion.<br />
<br />
Arjun, meadow possessed , lights a lonely dusk.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-69100968777816330872009-09-13T21:04:00.001-07:002009-09-16T10:50:55.368-07:00Elegy of nineteenStrange as I think of you now, like I don't remember anything<br />
<br />
Deity as you once were, from the unreal to the real - your transcendence<br />
<br />
Marched past the policing age, the bilingual virginal solitude granted<br />
<br />
Bodyless, dayless eternity where you walked down once<br />
<br />
Few hundred years ago, in my timeless string of comas.<br />
<br />
Strange when your unwilling lips touched mine, in a lack-love pact<br />
<br />
Tanned as you died then, halo of hollow inevitability. <br />
<br />
No, I don't remember anything, but the ghetto of <i>Amidah</i> hymns<br />
<br />
Brain-tricked rising of the absolute from the absolute that absolutes<br />
<br />
Absolves, unvanquished trident. When you had a mouth - and I had none.<br />
<br />
My eyes fixed to you, unnoticeable feminine absolute, wholly your <i>Amidah</i> remains<br />
<br />
Storming like a radiant phantom, textless , in a language of genesis.<br />
<br />
Rinsed with no rain, no Bombay, no rice - stones remain in briefs.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-69747211896308068422009-09-08T13:48:00.001-07:002009-09-08T13:52:24.723-07:00Threshold of Joy - IIShe doesn't like my poetry - that's true<br />
In fact she reads to me, excerpt of her friends'<br />
To them I utter thousand metonyms of tribute<br />
She doesn't think of me as a poet too, but <br />
My thoughts smelling in her, wrote an entire poem.<br />
When her friends raise glasses of delight<br />
Waves of joy splashes her face.<br />
I do not want anything, but a sight of that joy.<br />
Wherever she stays happy<br />
With whoever that makes her so, let her be.<br />
Let her joy burn the face of God in elation<br />
Let her anonymous joy - break in light from all directions<br />
She doesn't love my words - but in this life <br />
Of hell-bent disharmony<br />
She is my lone drop of love, she is my -<br />
Joy. One lake full of joy.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6144091107549058842.post-49487977407203001802009-09-02T14:33:00.000-07:002009-09-02T14:33:21.890-07:00ExpiryLong quiet sundays drift.<br />
Writing to reach you,<br />
Since I do not know<br />
Otherwise.Sheil.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07259458772038373917noreply@blogger.com0